


Ghost

by laireshi



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Artificial Intelligence, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Hopeful Ending, M/M, holy shit what's happened to Tony?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers. “I miss you.”</p><p>“I’m here,” Tony answers equally quietly. “I’m <i>always</i> here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Comicsohwhyohwhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicsohwhyohwhy/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Призрак](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9463121) by [meg_aka_moula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meg_aka_moula/pseuds/meg_aka_moula), [WTF_Avengers_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Avengers_2017/pseuds/WTF_Avengers_2017)



> This is mostly based around the speculation on how Civil War II ends and why there isn't Tony in the previews, and because Comicsohwhyohwhy is evil.  
> (In short: something terrible will happen to Tony.)
> 
> Thanks for beta to [Wren](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/pseuds/MassiveSpaceWren) :) 
> 
> This is also a fill for the "presumed dead" square on my bingo card.

“I wish I could touch you,” Steve mutters; he isn’t sure if he actually wants Tony to hear him.

Tony does, of course, because Tony hears everything these days, and Steve would have to lock himself in a screened room devoid of any tech to stop him—and he’ll never do that. To Tony, or to himself.

“You can touch me,” Tony says easily.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Steve says, annoyed.

“You could be more accurate,” Tony chides him. His voice comes from everywhere; every hidden speaker in Steve’s room.

“Can you—just talk through my mobile?” Steve asks.

“Like I’m calling you?” Tony’s clearly amused.

“Like that,” Steve whispers. Tony will hear him anyway.

His mobile doesn’t _actually_ call—but suddenly, Tony’s voice is coming from there. Steve sighs. “I don’t get you,” Tony says. “There _are_ armours in the Tower. I could—”

“Tony,” Steve says, tiredly. “I want to touch _you_. Not your armour.”

A beat. “You didn’t used to have a problem with that, before.”

 _Before_.

“You know why,” Steve says. He’s exhausted. He misses Tony.

“I don’t, actually.” Tony sounds curious. “I could upload my consciousness into an armour. Hell, into an LMD.”

“It wouldn’t be _you_!” Steve roars.

“How is that different from when I was confined to my physical body?” Tony asks.

Steve stares at his empty bed, and wishes Tony were there. Body and mind; all. “You know how,” he says again.

“Yes,” Tony admits, quiet now. “But—there are advantages.”

“Give me one?” Steve asks. All he can think about is: if anyone found out that Tony is still alive, and practically limitless in his reach through tech, they’d kill him.

And that . . . that isn’t anything near acceptable, at all.

Tony’s silent for a long while. “I can’t drink,” he says finally. “That isn’t to say I don’t _want_ to. And I never could drink, that was the problem. But this time I really, physically, can’t get drunk. That’s a big plus in my books. Especially right now.”

Steve wants to punch something. “I didn’t . . .”

“What, didn’t expect that? I’m a drunk, Steve, that hasn’t changed. Or did you think I was fine because I hadn’t drunk for years?” Tony’s tone is cutting now, but it’s no less than Steve deserves.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers. “I miss you.”

“I’m here,” Tony answers equally quietly. “I’m _always_ here.”

 _It’s not the same_ , Steve thinks, and then is guiltily glad Tony didn’t turn telepathic, too. They can talk, yes—and it’s great, it’s so much better than the alternative Steve doesn’t want to think about. But he wants to touch Tony. He wants to kiss him. To hold him in his arms. To see that Tony _is_ okay—except Tony very much isn’t, and this is the problem.

“I’m fine,” Tony says, and Steve startles. “I can’t read your mind, and you didn’t say anything out loud, but I can still see your face, Steve, and I have known you for a very long time.”

Steve smiles at that. At least they have that; the long-established friendship—and more.

“You could . . .” Tony’s clearly hesitating. “I appreciate that you didn’t strip your room of all the tech, but you could do that.”

Steve wants to laugh. “No, Tony, I couldn’t. If this is the only way I can have you now—I really couldn’t.”

“Thank you,” Tony says, as if surprised.

There’s something Steve has to ask about, even as he fears the answer. “Are you—somewhere else, too?”

Tony doesn’t reply immediately, which is an answer all on its own. He doesn’t sound apologetic, either, when he finally speaks. “I am. And you knew that. And this really doesn’t take from the attention I’m paying to you, Steve. You’ll always be my priority.”

“I thought we were over this with Extremis,” Steve lets out.

“I wouldn’t know,” Tony says.

It sounds like a lie, and what does it say about them, that even now, when Tony’s just a voice in his machines, Steve can still recognize him lying?

“You remember,” he says, heavily.

“Yes.” Tony stops talking for a moment, as if he wants to take a deep breath he doesn't need anymore. “Remember how I told you I couldn’t get drunk now? This is one of the reasons I’m almost _glad_ of this situation. It’s so much easier to process everything in binary than . . .”

Except Tony’s not processing anything at all, because as always he’s just thinking about everything else but the things he _should_ process. Running away. Even when he doesn’t have a body to run.

“Steve,” Tony says then. “There are things I want to do that I can’t. Yes, I want to kiss you. I want to drink, and never stop. I also want to fire a repulsor at my head.” He pauses, and Steve stares at the phone, shocked. He has no idea what to say to this confession. He—it’s not exactly news, Tony’s death wish, but he’s never spelt it out quite like that before. Then, before Steve’s had a chance to put himself together, Tony continues. “Out of all these things,” he says, “there is one I _could_ do. I’m just a piece of data, now. And data can get deleted.”

Steve grabs his mobile in hand and holds tight, as if Tony could feel that. “No,” Steve says, his voice breaking. There are tears in his eyes. So Tony is just a computer presence now—but he is there. He _is_ alive.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says finally. “I’m sorry I pushed you—I love you, Tony.”

“I know,” Tony says. “There are reasons I’m still here, after all.”

Steve hears a snap, and then realises he broke his phone.

“And I thought you wanted me to _call you_.” Tony’s voice comes from everywhere again.

Steve stares at the broken parts of the mobile. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“Of course not,” Tony says. “But this time, I’m not downstairs in the workshop, ready to fix it for you.” Then he adds, “This is the problem, huh.”

“You said it wasn’t,” Steve mutters.

“You know the alternative,” Tony reminds him. “For now, we both prefer this.”

“Tony,” Steve says finally. “I’m guessing you trust Riri, and—and even Doom. But when someone finds out you aren’t quite as dead as they thought—“

“Riri’s great,” Tony says. “She just stopped some Inhuman with arsonist ideas along with Kamala.” Steve’s not even annoyed anymore that Tony’s clearly multitasking between him and—others. “And I can’t tell you what Victor’s doing at the moment, but yes, I trust him. I’m also worried that he _would_ kill anyone who found out about me.”

Steve shouldn’t be glad of that, but—if this is keeping Tony safe . . . Steve can’t watch him die again. He saw the Iron Man armour get crushed with Tony still inside once already, he saw the blood flowing out; he was certain he’d never get to hear Tony again. And whatever Tony might’ve done, crazy with grief, during the war . . . Steve can’t live without him.

“Let’s just hope no one will learn, until . . .” Tony trails off.

“Until?” Steve asks.

“I can’t stay like that forever, can I,” Tony says, his voice coming from one speaker, then the next, in progression. It’s eery, and Steve wishes he didn’t do that.

“I’m here for you,” Steve promises. Whatever else he might feel—Tony needs him, and this is the most important. “I’m here and I love you.”

Tony’s voice seems sad. “Yes. And I’m here because I love you.”

Steve’s not sure how they’ll come back from this one—but they have to.

Tony’s silent after that.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic also has a [tumblr post](https://laireshi.tumblr.com/post/147020941087/ghost) :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Тоже жизнь](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9463343) by [meg_aka_moula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meg_aka_moula/pseuds/meg_aka_moula), [WTF_Avengers_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Avengers_2017/pseuds/WTF_Avengers_2017)




End file.
